


An Ever Present Ache

by Winterstar



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:00:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9350036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterstar/pseuds/Winterstar
Summary: Tony has a secret and Steve's about to discover it....





	

The ache continues. Every day, all day. He can never ignore it, not truly. It is there and there are times when he needs to brace himself up against a wall, or a chair just to ride through the pain. Not ride it out, because there is no out for him. The pain has been with him since it happened to him, since it was revealed – all those many years ago.

Everyone – all the biographers, all the press, and the media – everyone knows about Howard Stark. The millionaire playboy (because Howard was only a millionaire – it was Tony who made the first billion) with a wicked smile and a devil may care attitude about life. No one ever expected Howard to settle down and have a family. It surprised everyone the day Howard came home with a bride on his arm. The paparazzi went wild; they were followed endlessly. His wife, Maria, had been a quiet woman without much to say and less to add to his life. Most theorized she would be gone inside of a year. Some were right. 

She disappeared from the limelight. That didn’t mean her influence did over Howard. He did not divorce her. He stayed true to her, especially after it was revealed they’d had a son. No one even knew she was pregnant. The baby – a boy – charmed the media. He became a sensation. 

Tony tries to laugh off the memories, but of course he cannot. The memories are the ones he has to pretend are true. He cannot reveal who is mother really was, or what Howard had done. What he had done to her, how he had cursed his son and beat him. In the end it had been a mercy for her to die. After what Howard had done. The chill runs up his spine and he knows it is almost time.

He puts his tools down on the workbench and asks, “JARVIS, what time is it?”

“It is 2:32 in the morning, sir. You are safe. The Tower is quiet. All of your team mates are on their respective floors.” He notices how JARVIS does not say they are sleeping, but then again the Tower is filled with insomniacs. 

Tony sighs. “Thank God.” He doesn’t think he could handle another minute holed up in his workshop. “Bruce?”

“Doctor Banner has taken to his rest.”

He always has to check on Bruce because somehow the man creeps around the Tower and surprises Tony in his workshop more often than not. Tony suspects he’s programmed JARVIS to not view his movements, or JARVIS has decided on his own that someone has to look after Tony and has elected Bruce to do it. But the truth of the matter is, no one can look after Tony. They don’t understand – they can’t. There is no one here who has any experience, or knowledge. There is no one here who would not be terrified.

He leaves the workbench and starts toward the elevators. He loves the Tower, he loves New York but something deep inside of him still misses Malibu. He should go out and visit Pepper in California, swim in the warm ocean, be himself again. Pepper would welcome him. They might not be a couple anymore, because he needed to set her free. No one deserves to be saddled with someone as damaged and pained as Tony. She does offer him solace and comfort when he needs it. He needs to leave the Tower and go back to California. 

Stepping into the elevator he leans against the back wall as JARVIS closes the lift and it starts up to his penthouse floor apartment. He doesn’t remember how long it’s been since he went down to the workshop, heaven knows he hasn’t seen any of his team mates in days. He doesn’t mind it, that they keep to themselves and he squirrels away in his shop for days on end. It’s better this way. None of them will find out about the ache, about his pain.

He’d been lucky enough to keep it together during Afghanistan. Three fucking months of hell. He never thought it would end. The damned desert, the heat and then the cold. The torture and the water. Christ, the water nearly killed him in so many ways. He shivers as he considers how very lucky he was to have Yinsen with him. The man saved him on so many levels. Tony didn’t need to confess his deepest darkest secrets, the man seemed to know innately just the thing to say to help him. He misses Yinsen’s wise face and whispered words every day.

He thought getting through Afghanistan, defeating Stane, Hammer, and Vanko would have prepared him for Loki and the Chitauri. The whole break down and invasion seemed like something from his mother’s tales. She would tell him great stories of the gods, and the demons, and the air and wind and oceans. She would explain to him how he fit into it all and it just seemed too fantastical to be real. 

Until the day it happened and the clouds of dreams solidified into the ice of reality. 

Christ, he’s too tired to deal with any of this today. He’s exhausted from waiting it out in his workshop until he can find some peace and quiet in the Tower. When he gets to his floor he tugs off his shirt and tosses it onto the sofa as he passes. All he wants is to get into the bath. That’s all. But it’s been too long and he waited far too long to do anything about it. He felt the ache hours ago. Shit it might have been days. He barely clings to the wall as the pain streaks through him. It starts like a ping in the pit of his belly and then grows, swarms through his nerves. It becomes a storm and he can barely ride it. He slips down the wall and curls in on himself. 

When it happened in Afghanistan, Yinsen helped him. He knew so many things. He had ancient knowledge and demanded herbs and soothing tonics to help him through the ache. YInsen never knew the truth, not really. But he knew the signs, Tony thinks. He knew enough to help Tony so that it would not happen, so that he could inhibit it enough so that the pain was insistent but not overwhelming.

And now, because of his own fears and his own insecurity, he’s wrapped in a ball on his own living room floor. He’s an idiot. He should have told someone, anyone. He could have confessed it – to one of his team members. To Steve. He wanted to, so many times. But the look in Steve’s eyes when Tony caught him unaware just stole away Tony’s breath and placed so much hope that there could be more. Each and every time, Tony begged off and disappeared. He pretended not to see the anguish in Steve’s expression when he denied him. He pretended not to care that Steve spent hours and hours banging at a bag in the gym until his hands bled every time Tony rejected that hope. 

Now, Tony needs someone, but he cannot have anyone help him. He forces himself out of the ball, though it is painful and hurts like a burning sun is in his belly. He rips at his clothes and nothing help. He attempts to get up on all fours but his legs don’t work, not now, not anymore. He topples to the marble tiled floor and hits his chin hard. He bites his tongue. He spits out the blood. Groaning he rolls over. It can’t happen here, not here. If it happens here, he’ll die. He’d thought he would die in Afghanistan, but Yinsen understood and helped him through it each and every time. The salves, the teas – they all helped. He should find out what the hell they were so this doesn’t happen again.

He curses low in his throat. He cannot make it. He vomits from the pain.

“Sir?”

He tries to answer but the words slur in his mouth and come out a confused mess. 

“Sir, you are in distress. I will alert your team members.”

He manages to get out, “No.”

“Sir, please you cannot make it to the bedroom, not in your current state. I could have your team members here-.”

He doesn’t know why he says it. He should have picked Bruce, but he just pitches it out like a lobbed ball. “St-steve.”

“I am alerting Captain Rogers to your state.”

It should alarm him. He should try and crawl away and hide. He doesn’t want Steve to see him like this. Never like this. He trembles and the sweat pools on his back. Steve is too important. What will he think? But Tony cannot answer that, not at all. His brain fries with the fire and he desperately needs help. He can barely form a coherent word or thought. How long does it take – he does not know. Finally he hears the ding of the elevator and the sound of Steve’s bare footfalls on the tile. 

“Tony!” Steve crouches by Tony’s side. “JARVIS call the ambulance.”

“No,” Tony forces the words from his mouth. He must look disgusting and gross with the spittle and the vomit and the sweat. 

“Tony, I don’t know what’s happening,” he says as he kneels next to him. He places a hand on his chest, but not on the arc reactor. “Are you having a heart attack?” 

Tony shakes his head and JARVIS answers for him. “Captain, please bring Sir into the bathroom in his bedroom. I have drawn the bath for him.”

“The bath?” Steve says and his voice goes up. “What the -? He needs more than a bath. Call the police and the paramedics.”

“Captain, please.”

Tony paws at Steve and Steve only shakes his head as he pleads, “B-bath, plea-please.”

“I don-.” Distress and pain cross over Steve’s expression. He wars with them as he wastes precious time.

“Sir, if Captain Rogers does not comply I will contact Doctor Banner-.”

“No, no,” Steve says and gathers Tony in his arms, lifting him with one fierce heave. He stands. “I’ll do it. I don’t know why. But I trust you, I do. I’m just scared.” He doesn’t waver, doesn’t fall under the weight but carries Tony to the bath, not stopping along the way.

Once in the ensuite, Tony points to the large bathtub. It’s huge, big enough for four people easily. It’s more like a Jacuzzi hot tub than a normal bathtub. There’s water already waiting and Tony nearly faints in relief. 

“Captain, please remove all of Sir’s clothing.”

Steve hesitates only for a moment, but he places Tony on the floor with its tiles that are white with the smallest veins of red and gold in them. He quickly undresses Tony, being almost mechanical about it. Without being instructed he lifts Tony again and brings him to the bath.

“You’re sure about this?” Steve asks and Tony cannot but sob for the water. 

It is JARVIS who answers, “Yes, please place him in the water.”

Steve does.

The relief, the ecstasy of relief pounds through him. It is almost more painful than the ache. It feels like a blessing and a curse all at once. He doesn’t care because he sheds his form and he becomes, becomes- and the scales reappear and he feels his legs merge and the bones reform. He sees the world around him in multi-colors and surreal forms as he transforms into his natural state.

“Oh, oh,” Steve says. “You’re a mer-a mer?”

Tony goes under the water for a moment, relishing the water, and then re-emerges. The ease, the feeling is joy and delight and wonder. When he comes up again he sees Steve standing there, mouth agape, eyes like the sea. Tony says, “A merman, Steve. I’m a merman.”

“I think I owe Fury another ten bucks.” He staggers a little and then ends up sitting down on the edge of the tub. He stares down at Tony’s twelve foot tail with its red and gold scales and the iridescent colors of the sun. Tony’s fins unfurl out and are nearly six feet across. The water feels like luxury. The tub is long enough and wide enough for him.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says as he lays his head back, floating. “I never meant for you to find out. I should have been more careful.”

Steve is still sitting there staring at his tail, at how the scales work up to his mid-section. At his groin where his phallus would emerge from his body if he was aroused – and yep there it is. Steve colors a deeper red than Tony’s tail.

“Oh, sorry,” Steve says and looks away.

“No, I’m sorry. I was careless and you shouldn’t have to deal with this. I’ll resign from the team-.”

“Who said anything about the team?” Steve asks. He turns back to Tony and he cannot keep his eyes off of the tail. It shines and glimmers in the water. In a murmur, he says, “So beautiful.”

Tony cannot help but lift his tail and allow the waves in the tub to splash a little over the sides. There’s a reason he has drains in the floor. Some of the water hits Steve. “Sorry.”

Steve’s eyes alight on Tony’s face. “I think you’re apologizing too much.”

“I think you’re not freaking out enough,” Tony replies. Granted it, they don’t know one another all that well. But Tony admits to himself for the first time, he wants to know Steve, he longs to know Steve. Steve with the complexion like the sun and eyes like the seas.

“Why would I freak out? I fought a guy with a red skull head, I saw the tesseract and the galaxies, I fought aliens from outer space. I slept 70 years and I dreamt.” He pauses and his hand reaches out as if he might caress Tony’s fins. “I dreamt.”

“You dreamt.” Tony admits, he’s entranced by Steve’s reaction – how gentle and soft. Steve’s eyes and demeanor radiate worship and reverence. “What did you dream?” Tony’s voice is so very tender.

“I saw the ocean, the waters, I felt them touching me. I felt them keeping me. I knew I would be all right, because they were there. Always holding me.” He stops and then adds, “When I slept. They were there.”

Tony can barely speak, can barely form the thought, but he has to ask, “Who?”

“I thought it was a dream,” he says and meets Tony’s gaze. There are tears in his eyes. “I thought you were a dream.”

“Me?”

“I saw the sea and I saw the merpeople and I thought it was a dream. I thought. But they were there, caring for me all that time,” Steve says and his hand is only inches from Tony’s tail.

“Touch me,” Tony says because he cannot stand it any longer. 

Steve caresses a hand down Tony’s fin and the feeling, the delight shivers through him. He cannot hide his arousal or his need. “Come to me.”

“How did this happen?” Steve asks. His words are like songs in the deep.

“My mom,” Tony answers and he reaches up to unbutton Steve’s shirt. “My mom was a mermaid captured by my dad when he was looking for you. He kept her. She ended up having me. I’m only half merman. I can stay out of water longer than she could. She mourned her life every day.”

“He captured her when he was looking for me?” Steve asks and there’s regret and pain in his eyes.

“Yes,” Tony says. “Take off your shirt.”

Steve doesn’t question; he just follows the order. “Your people took care of me and look what happened.”

“A wise man once told me not to look back but to see to the future.”

“I’m not sure that’s entirely a good thing,” Steve says. He touches Tony’s fins again and then slowly glides his hand along his flank. “Your people protected me.”

“I’d like to meet them someday,” Tony says and there’s a wistfulness in his tone.

“I’d like to thank them, too,” Steve says. 

Tony reaches for Steve’s pajamas and tugs at his pants. “Join me.” He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, what compels him. But he knows that Steve is good and accepting. It has been so long since he has been accepted – in fact he’s never been accepted for who he is except for his mother. His father hated him. His father thought he would be a human with unimaginable strength and power, instead he got a _fucking fish_ \- that’s what he used to call Tony as he beat him any time he needed to get to the water. 

“Tony, I-.” Steve looks down and the height of color goes to his cheeks again. 

“Come, don’t be shy,” Tony says and draws Steve to him. They share a taste of a kiss. It’s only just the beginning and Tony feels light, like he’s floating in the ocean going deeper and wider. He wants something he’s never had. This acceptance.

“I haven’t ever-.” Steve says and looks away.

“You haven’t ever kissed a merman, been with a merman? Not a surprise, sweetums.”

“No, I haven’t ever been with anyone,” Steve says and his shoulders slump and he pulls away from Tony. 

“Oh baby, then it was meant to be,” Tony says and he knows it makes no sense, but Steve quakes under his touch. “Come, be with me.”

It’s odd how this turned from the ever present ache, the burning inside of him, to a new and different need. To a yearning, to an acceptance, to this new light, this new heat. 

“I’m so-.” Steve doesn’t finish but he does stand up. For a moment, Tony thinks he might walk away, thinks this is it. But instead, he drops his pajama pants, inhales deeply, releases it, and then steps into the water, putting a foot on each side of Tony. “Is this all right?”

Tony doesn’t answer, instead he pulls Steve into an embrace. They sink into the waters and it feels like a baptism of life, feels like the beginning. Tony never knew this acceptance but he understands it now. His people, his lost people saved this man for him. This man was sent to him, to be with him and to save him.

An ache, a hunger, a desire grows and it does not pain him. It is not agony. It is the beginning and he accepts it as he sinks into a kiss, sinks into the man who would be his savoir.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on tumblr -- just look for winterstar95!


End file.
